


The First Skywalker

by liaskywalkerl



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst, Canon Compliant, F/F, Gen, I've been working on this for months, Lesbian Romance, Multi, Planet Tatooine (Star Wars), Pre Canon, Pre-Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, Shmi Skywalker Needs A Hug, Shmi is a lesbian, Skywalker Family Drama, Slow Burn, Whump, biography, canon compliant star wars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26975044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liaskywalkerl/pseuds/liaskywalkerl
Summary: She had heard that name before—a Sky-Walker. Just a secure code made for people like her, the ones who didn't have a family name and who were tossed around in the galaxy, owner after owner, never truly having a place to settle down. It might have started as some sort of inside joke between slavers or even slaves themselves, to refer as someone who travelled a lot in the crowded slave-ships as something that sounded so mystical as Sky-Walker. Shmi didn't mind much, the first four letters of her name seemed awfully alone, anyway.However, the name carried a weight she didn't know if she was ready to take.She had a bad feeling about this.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Shmi Skywalker, Shmi Skywalker/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 23





	1. PROLOGUE & The Auction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [returnofthejedis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/returnofthejedis/gifts).



> Hello! I've been working on this fanfic for some months now, but I was expecting to post it only when I finished the last chapter but I couldn't wait. I collected every bit of Shmi's backstory from the canon and the legends and I took several liberties while writing but I tried to stay as closer as I could to the Star Wars lore. If I have to deal with any heavy topics (which I don't plan to go into deep detail) I will add a warning in the beginning notes. 
> 
> Hope you will enjoy this fic!
> 
> For Twin Suns.

_“You can’t stop the change any more you can stop the suns from setting.”_  
_— Shmi Skywalker, The Phantom Menace (1999)_

* * *

**Prologue**

The long line of people stretched out behind her; the humid hot air assaulted her senses, and her own horrid smell and the stench of sewage water made Shmi need to take a deep breath to compose herself- which wasn't enough to undo the knots in her stomach. 

—Name.—the Rodian with a datapad in his enormous hands demanded in huttese. The girl had to twist her nose at the pungent, musky aroma emanating from the creature. 

—Shmi. 

— Surname? 

She bit the inside of her cheek, wishing she could at least be able to clean the sweat of her palms in her dirty robe- but, the shackles in her wrists made this task quite impossible.

— I don't have one.— The seven-year-old blankly replied in huttese, staring into the alien's empty pitch-black eyes, which weirdly reminded her of the small windows in ships; the ones she’d be lucky enough to catch a glimpse. 

She knew this wasn't true. Everyone had a surname, even more of one, sometimes. Shmi just couldn't remember her own. The girl knew this wasn’t a problem; it wasn’t like a slaver, and slave-traders cared about slave’s surnames; they hardly ever directed a word at them.

That was what she wanted to believe, anyways. To think as a surname as just one of the countless things she did not possess. Not as something she used to share with a family. A family she could hardly recall, people she once loved and cared for- wholly forgotten. It had been just a year, and the wound of their loss still burned as a freshly open cut. 

—Another _sky-walker_. — She could almost see the small, circular orifice of the creature’s mouth turn into a mocking grin, but forcibly set the thought aside, realising how stupid she sounded. He was a slave as much as she was, but, in his small position of power receiving the new slaves, he might think otherwise. 

She had heard that name before—a _Sky-Walker._ Just a secure code made for people like her, the ones who didn't have a family name and who were tossed around in the galaxy, owner after owner, never truly having a place to settle down. It might have started as some sort of inside joke between slavers or even slaves themselves, to refer as someone who travelled a lot in the crowded slave-ships as something that sounded so mystical as Sky-Walker. Shmi didn't mind much, the first four letters of her name seemed awfully alone, anyway. 

However, the name carried a weight she didn't know if she was ready to take. 

With a simple hand-motion, she was sent away to the slave district for yet another auction. 

Even being in this condition for just a year, Shmi had already made her away in the galaxy. She was always moving from system to system as she was passed around by several masters. But, most of them were related, somehow, so the child knew what to expect. Now she would receive a brand new master who could take her to somewhere completely different and far away and treat her in ways she couldn’t even begin to imagine. 

The girl wasn't looking forward. Not a bit.

_She had a bad feeling about this._

* * *

_**CHAPTER ONE** _

_**The auction** _

_**66 BBY, Vodran. Hutt Space.** _

Shmi realised that the auction was going to be worse than she expected rather quickly. The place was miserably dark, it smelled worse than the line she was before, and the girl saw suffering everywhere her eyes laid on. 

A glance of a memory ran across her mind; she couldn't be sure if it were one of the ones her affection starved-self created to fill the absence of her family or if it was an actual remembrance. It was a voice, in a language she did not know, but strangely enough, knew what was said. 

_Before anything else, think smart. A piece of knowledge can put a sword down without any hassle._

Her dark eyes instantly scanned her surroundings when she saw two flat rocks on the pavement. No one even looked at her when she bent over and grabbed them, quickly sitting on the concrete floor before anyone noticed. 

Shmi undid the wrappings on her feet and legs, the best way she could with her restricted movement, that served as a makeshift shoe, and then inspected her toes, — just to be sure they were all there and alright— and placed the rocks in the sole of each of her feet. 

Maybe it was a stupid plan, but it didn't hurt to try. Perhaps if Shmi added a few inches to her frame, this would save her of tasks she did not want to- the one's she knew her age would undoubtedly serve as an influence. 

The girl stood on the rocks in her shoes; her feet ached in protest, and she needed to support her body by awkwardly pressing her cuffed hand on the mouldy wall, but after a few seconds, she could stand on her own.

And there she waited. 

The slave traders must be incredibly proud of themselves; they certainly made good business that day. Shmi kept seeing the other people she shared transportation to the planet being taken by their buyers –some looking somewhat relieved for the first impression of their master, others not quite so. 

It was a lesson Shmi learned; kindness wasn't something she should expect. Not from anyone. If a master didn't hit you across your face, that was enough gentleness for you. Her last owner, a male Iktochi named Keamico Thragas who lived in Sriluur, taught her well. He used his powers of precognition and telepathy in underworld casinos to gamble and cheat, and whenever he wasn’t satisfied with his earnings, he would direct this rage to the girl. But, the gambling eventually stopped working, and Shmi found herself being sold again. 

As the hours passed, what was before just a bother in the corner of her mind was turning into a real possibility. Anxiety was piercing a hole in the girl’s already empty stomach, and tears were threatening to spill from her eyes in any second now. A Twi’lek she had met before in the ship told Shmi something that wouldn't leave her mind any soon:

 _You better start begging to the stars to get a master today,_ her yellow lekku twitched nervously as she spoke to the child, _they will sell you to the nearest spice mine if you don't. They hate returning home with a slave- they take space on the ship that could be used to get better ones._

Shmi might be young, but she wasn't naïve, she knew what was to happen to her if this was true and would avoid this situation at all costs. The despair of wanting to be bought was so great the girl spent several minutes pinching her cheeks, in a childish, desperate and fruitless attempt to make her skin rosy so she could have a healthier look and possibly attract buyers.

No one came.

The sun was starting to set down, and the girl was crying silently, anxiously tapping her extremely sore foot on the ground. When she was about to give up, sit on the ground, remove the rocks from her shoe, a voice rang through the humid streets:

— What about that girl? 

Shmi’s looked up with wide dark eyes, as the sudden feeling of hope stroke her down like lighting. She immediately straightened her posture, trying to seem like even staying on her feet didn't send a severe pain through her body. 

The girl looked at the woman before her. A mop of fiery red hair adorned her pale greenish head, and she had a long, thin nose and lips- that seemed more like a crack than a mouth to Shmi- and dark black eyes who looked like two holes in her face. But if she was interested in taking her out of here, she could look like anything- the ugliest creature in the whole galaxy and the girl wouldn't care.

—Isn’t she too young? — The woman twisted her nose as if the girl standing before her was covered in sewage water. 

— That’s the best kind,— the slaver assured — the older ones are already starting to get too rebellious. A young one like this will be easier to be more compliant with your orders.

The redhead raised one eyebrow, looking at Shmi up and down with her crater-like eyes. 

—Excellent. — She said —I’ll take her. 

Shmi’s shoulders relaxed when a huge weight was lifted from them. As she pressed her lips together, her eyes fell to the ground and fixed in the wet concrete. For a moment, the girl let her mind be completely empty. Ignoring the fear, anger, hate and suffering scorching inside her with such intensity, she feared if she took a deep breath smoke would come out of her nostrils. 

The feeling didn't change when she arrived at her new master’s home in a planet called Teth, after a quick journey in another ship. 

_A Sky-Walker,_ the name rang in Shmi’s ears again. 

Her name was Pi-Lippa. A middle-aged widow who didn't bother to have any children before her wealthy husband passed away years before- not that this seemed to trouble her in any way. Shmi noticed she was glad about her current situation. She would be too if she had all this money. 

_I could look for mom and dad if I had this money._ The thought popped up in her mind. Even if she didn't remember much of them, she could only assume they existed. No one could be born out of thin air; that much she knew.

Shmi shook her head. There was no time to sink in those thoughts now. All she could do is hope they were alright.

Pi-Lippa gave the girl a quick tour of her house, the biggest one she had been in so far, filled with fancy furniture and even a heating system.

— Your room is near the kitchen.— She said, and Shmi knew she would probably need to start learning some new recipes. She doubted the ones she learned from pirates and a game-addicted drunk would be enough for her new master. — You’re not allowed to leave without me, under any circumstances. You have your detonator inside you for a reason.— Pi-Lippa crossed her arms— Do I make myself clear? 

Shmi nodded.

— I can't hear you.— Her master said, annoyed. 

When the girl tried to speak, her mouth was so dry she couldn’t make any words out of it. On the second try, her hoarse voice was able to answer:

— Yes, master.

A phrase she was way too familiar.

Life with Pi-Lippa was not as bad as she expected, and Shmi was aware she was fortunate to have a master that was not half as violent as the other ones she encountered in her lifetime. Pi-Lippa provided Shmi with quarters she did not have to share with other slaves- who in fact didn’t exist, the young girl was the only one-, food twice a day and unlimited access to water in the bathroom whenever she wanted. 

It was way more than Shmi expected. 

The woman would ask the young brunette to wake up with the sunrise all morning so Shmi could start what Pi-Lippa called the ‘adaptation’, which consisted of her precious time being used to teach the seven-year-old how to be a useful servant. 

She was taught how to cook, sew, clean, to handle money, how to find the way to the marketplace and return without getting lost and how to talk with the sellers and get the products cheaper. 

Pi-Lippa suffered from several chronic illnesses Shmi never heard of. The woman made her learn the basics of every medical-aid she needed in order to function normally during the day, and this was a set of skills the girl didn't mind learning. It was interesting, and Shmi knew this kind of knowledge is valuable and extremely useful for someone in her position. 

Sometimes, Shmi’s master would be violent. Every bit of hope inside the girl that maybe, the woman had a small bit of affection towards her was crushed immediately. 

_There is no such thing as a good slave master;_ she had to remind herself. 

The girl kept on living with Pi-Lippa as the years passed by. Day after day, the remaining of the hope inside her that whispered she might be able to see her family again died a little each time the sun disappeared in the night. Shmi's memory of them was turning non-existent, as she desperately tried to hold onto every one of the precious little moments of the life she was never able to return. 

* * *

As the years went by, the Sky-Walker grew used to life on Teth. As much as she hated the jungle, exotic animals, flies, local food and climate- she managed to ignore it and continue her work. 

But, whereas Shmi grew older and healthier, Pi-Lippa seemed only to grow old and weak. Her once vibrant red hair was thin and dull, her skin was stretched like old leather over her skull, and her dark eyes could barely keep themselves open. 

Now, twenty-nine years old, Shmi was working the double she used to. She fed, bathed, dressed, nursed her master to health whenever she fell ill, put ointment on her dry skin- almost entirely covered with blisters, and purple patches-and also did the usual house chores she used to do.

One day while she was feeding Pi-Lippa, the older woman said:

— You have been such a nice girl...— her voice was almost a whisper between sharp breaths — When I die, — her thin lips parted slightly as Pi-Lippa grimaced in pain— I will free you.

_You will be free._


	2. The Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pi-Lippa did not free Shmi.

**_II_ **

**_THE ANGEL_ **

_Slave ship. 42 BBY._

Pi-Lippa did not free Shmi. She did not write anything regarding freeing her slave on her will; therefore, Shmi was still her property. Now, after her master’s passing, she was passed on to her closest family member, who also lived in Teth, the same as all her other belongings. 

Because this what was she was—a belonging. 

She was angry with herself. Extremely. Shmi should not have believed in Pi-Lippa for a second– trusting people never lead to anything except disappointment, anger and sadness. And, yet, Shmi was still too naïve to see this. 

Once again, the Sky-Walker was in a slave ship. 

The rusty metal walls of the humid, crowded, fetid and hot ship hummed incessantly. This one didn't provide its passengers with anything that could be used as a seat, but Shmi noticed some people had decided to sit on the filthy floors. Her eyes laid on a woman, a few years her senior, cradling a baby wrapped in a rough fabric as she sat on the corner of the ship. 

The baby wailed incessantly, waving their tiny closed fists in the air. Meanwhile, the woman was -without any luck- trying to soothe the child as the other passengers stared with a complete look of annoyance and utter lack of empathy for the mother and her baby.

Shmi felt a chill run down her spine, and the hair in the back of her head raised as she watched the scene. Something about it felt weirdly familiar, for a reason she could not be entirely sure. Something was being said, yet no words were being uttered. Still, she felt that deep down on her being, she understood it.

She had surrendered to tiredness, and to the stabbing pain in both her legs and sat on the floor like many of the other passengers had. Her body was already soaked with sweat and dirt; she doubted that if she stood during all the travel to avoid the floor, she would remain less filthy. 

The woman allowed herself to let her guard down; her shoulders sagged, her jaw unclenched, and her head rested on the metal wall. The constant humming of the machinery was slowly driving her insane as if the noise had been directly inserted into her brain incessantly. Shmi didn't know what was worse, the baby crying or the ship's noises alone, but she knew it wouldn't take long for people to start complaining a little bit more violently. The mother was skinny and frail; her blonde hair had been chopped off in a way Shmi could almost see her scalp and her cheeks were sunken in her sickly pale face. There was no way she could protect herself or her child, even if someone weaker than her–Shmi assumed the only way someone could be in a worse condition as if they were dead- tried to attack them.

She looked at the mother and child, every bit of Shmi’s body wished for the baby to be quiet– not for her own comfort, but the child and their mother’s sake. Her dark eyes quickly found their way to the wailing child, who curiously enough, looked back to her with their deep green eyes.

They held eye contact for a few moments, and then the wailing stopped. 

A few synchronised gasps of relief echoed through the ship, accompanied by quick chuckles. The sudden realisation that everyone appreciated the brief silence in the spaceship, despite their current situation, was a bit amusing to them. Shmi allowed a small smile blossom in her dry lips as the child’s mother offered her a tight smile of gratitude. None of them knew what happened, but neither of them was in a place to question it or complain. For now, they would just be grateful that it happened. 

Now that the only nuisance was the ship’s terrible noise, awful smell, uncomfortable setting and the dreadful feeling of uncertainty and anxiety looming over its passengers, the Sky-Walker was finally able to drift off to sleep. 

Dreams were always something Shmi relied on because sometimes they were the only source of comfort and blissful ignorance that she so desperately needed to go through her days. It was in her dreams that she could catch the smallest glimpses of her family that was now forgotten in the past. 

The Sky-Walker, however, never imagined she could have been cursed with flashes of the _future,_ instead. Not that she knew what she saw right away, but she certainly wasn't ignorant enough to brush it off as just something her imagination generated randomly. 

The first thing she realised was the heat. The entire place was so incredibly _hot_ that her mouth dried almost instantly, her scalp burned as if her hair was on fire. Secondly, she noticed the two balls of fire up in the horizon as if they were two eyes staring deep into her soul. Shmi had never seen anything like it, but had heard of systems like this one before, and was always partially grateful for never needing to reside in one of them. 

The third thing she noticed– who wasn't a thing, but a person–, was a man standing in the dunes that surrounded them like an endless sea of sand. He was taller than her; his skin was tanned but not as much as her own, the dirty blonde curls that adorned his head were gently blown away from his eyes by the wind, revealing their colour to be the clearest blue Shmi had ever seen.

A thin scar ran over his right eye. 

Even if she had never seen this man before, Shmi felt an extreme feeling of familiarity to him, and before she could notice what was happening, she was walking towards his direction. The man was wearing layers and layers of a bright fabric accompanied by a dark robe on top of his clothes. The sight alone left Shmi extremely uncomfortable with the wonder of how he was standing the heat, but he didn't seem to mind. The only emotion she could read from his face was tranquillity. 

The closer she got, the warmer her body felt, as if the man had the two sun’s fire inside. 

The woman raised her hand to touch his face; he stared at her with peace, but under that, she could sense an overwhelming sense of infinite sadness that made her chest tighten with anguish. 

_What has happened to you?_ The words blossomed in her mind. 

As her hand came closer to his warm skin, she felt as if thousands of needles were prickling from under her flesh, it was almost painful, but this did not stop her. Pain wasn't something Shmi was unknown to. 

But, as her hand was about to touch the man’s skin, her fingers dissolved in the air as if she was also a part of the dunes that surrounded them. She started her hand in shock, but didn't hesitate to place her remaining one on the man’s cheek. 

Once again, her fingers dissolved into nothing. 

She gave the man a desperate look as his blue eyes morphed into burning gold.

Shmi’s legs gave up under her as if the sand was swallowing her; she tried to grasp to his now dark clothes in a futile attempt to stand next to him, but the darkness was inevitable. And so was oblivion. 

Her eyes snapped open.

Shmi’s entire body felt cold, in contrast to how hot it felt just a moment earlier. She felt as if she had been boiled and then thrown into freezing water, and it wasn't a pleasant feeling. She looked to her shaky hands just to be sure they were still there– even if she knew it was impossible to lose a limb in a dream, she just needed to calm her mind. 

Her eyes rose to the corner of the ship the mother and her baby were sitting earlier, but all Shmi found was an empty spot. 

She ran the back of her hand on her forehead, noticing it was drenched with sweat. A deep breath slowly made its way out of her lips as she tried to calm down– it didn't work very well because she was startled when someone hit something in the ship’s metal walls, causing a loud noise to run through the now empty place.

—That one isn't dead!— She heard a voice echo to her direction. Footsteps followed the sound and Shmi found herself staring at a blonde, tall woman with electric blue eyes looking down on her. — _Nah,_ she's fine! Just a heavy sleeper, I guess. 

—What...— the dark-haired looked around in confusion— We arrived? 

The nameless blonde woman gave her a bright smile, Shmi noticed a thick scar that crossed her lip down to her chin.

— Yes, you did. I was just helping to get the...— she trailed off— uh... less fortunate ones get off the ship, and I found you. 

The Sky-Walker was still staring the woman’s scar, wondering what kind of master she had now, if they were the one that participated in the addition of this injury to this poor woman’s face. Shmi didn't think that she might realise the staring, but she was sure she did when the blonde woman smiled again and said:

—It is a little nasty, isn't it? — she joked, running a finger in her scarred chin— It’s my charm, though. I think. 

Shmi was about to apologise, but she was still trying to shake the image of the man she saw on her dream that had been printed on her memory. But before she had the chance to, she was interrupted:

_— Annílea!—_ another voice crept into the ship, and now the nameless woman had a name Shmi could associate to her kind face. — Get out of there before you get in trouble again. 

The blonde woman, Annílea, helped Shmi up and mumbled something about how _she's always in trouble, anyway,_ and held the confused woman close as they walked out the ship. 

— So, — Shmi’s new work-partner? Saviour? She didn't know how to describe her yet, broke the silence once again— you already know my name, can I know yours? 

The name issue that followed Shmi around was back to haunt her once again. Instead of just replying with her first name and be confronted with an awkward silence for a few endless moments, she just replied:

— Shmi Skywalker. 

It felt right. 

— Pleased to meet you, Shmi Skywalker. — Annílea smiled — I’m afraid I can only offer you my first name. I don't have a last one.— She joked. 

_Oh, yeah. That could also happen,_ Skywalker thought. 

—Who’s my new master? — Shmi went straight to the point, not seeing any need to postpone getting the vital information she needed to know to settle in her new life.

Annílea giggled, using her shirt to clean the lenses of a pair of goggles that were hanging from her neck a few moments before.

— I don't know. 

Before the Skywalker could ask what Annílea meant by that, the other voice that had called her before finally decided to present itself. 

— You’re always full of surprises, aren't you, Annie?— the purple Twi’Lek that was standing in the exit of the ship said in a mocking tone as she sighed, watching the women leave the ship. 

—That’s what helped me get this far, Kiv.— Annie placed her goggles back in her neck once again. — This is Shmi Skywalker, just arrived from her previous master. 

Kiv just nodded and continued speaking to Annílea as they walked further from the ship.

— They’re asking you to go back to the mechanics. Someone broke the cooling units again.

— Maybe they deserve to suffer in the heat like we do for a while. 

Shmi took her time to look around. The sky was purple as usual in Teth, far down what she assumed to be the slave quarters was a dense jungle made of vast trees of a deep dark wine-like colouration. 

—Annílea, you know this won’t end well for-

— Besides, I’ll be too busy showing Shmi Skywalker her new home in the slave district. 

Shmi shook her head.

—You don’t need to put yourself in danger because of me, you barely even met me. 

This seemed to be extremely funny to Annie.

—I don’t _need_ to, but I want to. 

Shmi smiled. She was so unaccustomed with the motion that her cheeks ached in protest. 

* * *

Even living in Teth for so long, Shmi still despised the place. The heat, humidity and insects could destroy her entire day in just a few moments — not that there was much to be destroyed, anyway, but she still despised it. 

— You can sleep next to me if you want.— Annílea offered when they reached the massive communal sleeping-area that much to Shmi’s disappointment, was open to the air and all the disgusting creatures that inhabited the planet.

And she didn't mean only the insects, to her misfortune. 

— I don't want to bother you.— Skywalker replied politely. It was more of a way of saying _I don't trust you._

— You won't.— came Annílea’s quick reply — I assure you, you will want to sleep next to someone who doesn't have any ill-intentions to you. 

Shmi stared at her.

— What kind of intentions do you have to me, then?

— Only the best ones at heart, I promise you.

Shmi accepted laying next to Annílea, even if every single bit of her consciousness screamed to her _not trust anyone again._

Annílea slowly undid the big braids in her blonde hair that hanged down her shoulders. Shmi found herself hypnotised by the movements of her delicate, fast and skilful fingers working on her golden locks of hair. 

— What is the meaning of your name? — Annie asked after being bored by the silence that stood between them.

Shmi looked at the women as if she had grown another head on her shoulder.

— What? 

—My name means merciful; what does yours mean? — Annílea let her hair down, to Shmi it looked like a river of melted gold was running down her shoulders and she noticed she couldn't take her eyes out of it. 

She shrugged, awkwardly running her fingers in the back of her neck. 

— I don’t know. I never had the time to think about this. 

_— Shmi Skywalker_ — Annie repeated, offering the woman a smile. Shmi saw a few freckles splashed on her nose and cheeks that she didn't notice before. — Well, if you’re half as magical as your name sounds, I bet you will be a great company. 

The Skywalker shook her head. This didn't make any sense at all. 

—Why you’re so kind to me?

Annílea rolled her blue eyes, laying on the improvised bed made of rough fabric.

— Why wouldn't I? 

—You don't know me.— Shmi pointed out. 

—Do _you_ know you? — Annie asked in a smooth voice, laying on her side to watch Shmi, resting her head on her hand. 

Shmi couldn't deny she had a point. 

— We spend such a long time serving others, worrying about our safety and what is to happen to our lives that we don't stop to think about the mundane aspects of it. — Annie shrugged, brushing it off as being a perfectly normal thing to do. — If we don't think about ourselves, how can we know who we truly are?

— Still, — Shmi wanted to change the subject, this wasn't a light topic of conversation one would like to have before going to bed — don’t you think if you help others you just met, you could be helping an evil person without knowing? 

Annílea shrugged.

—The biggest problem in this universe is that no one helps each other. — her bright eyes looked deep into Shmi— And, if we don't help someone because they _might_ be evil, wouldn't we be evil as well? 

Shmi smiled. 

— You’re too bright to be wasted in a place like this. 

Annílea tied her hair in a bun on the top of her head.

— But I’m not being wasted, I am talking to you right now. 

The Skywalker sighed, running her fingers in her short dark hair– she was in a desperate need of a shower.

— You said you didn’t know who your master is.— she began, choosing her words carefully. — What did you mean by that?

Annílea smiled as if Shmi had just shared an inside joke between them. The mischief in her eyes was almost touchable. 

—I don’t know who they are.— Annie said again, still smiling.

Shmi furrowed her brow.

— How...?

— I never wanted to know. Never asked. Never saw them. They’re always too busy in off-world trips and gambling with the Hutts to stay around. — she explained — So as long as _‘Annílea is doing his chores and staying quiet’,_ I will be alright. And, when you don’t know who owns you and who orders you around, you start to believe they don’t really exist. A little taste of freedom, you may say. 

Shmi smiled, even if Annílea was a little crazy, he was fun to be around.

— And that works out for you?

— Up to a point.— she replied with the same glimpse of mischief in her eyes. — Maybe you can learn from me, but not now. Tomorrow, maybe. After they push me around for not fixing the cooling units. — he chuckled as if pissing her masters off was the funniest thing in the world 

— Well, your name may suit you when we are talking about your friends, but certainly not when we are talking about our masters. — the Skywalker teased, laying on her side to face Annílea. 

— If you don't like this meaning you can use the other one.— He offered, raising one eyebrow to Shmi teasingly.— It’s the meaning in my first language, I think. _Nudian? Nupian?_ Honestly, I don't remember much of it. My memory’s not the greatest.

— What is the meaning? — Shmi asked, looking into Annie’s eyes as his thick blonde hair waved down her back.

— Angel. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Obs: Annílea's pronouns are he/her

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
